Normality or Something Like it
by HK-Revan
Summary: AU. Harry is a squib. His brother is the Boy Who Lived and is sick of being in the spotlight. Fate is not ready to let them go, neither is Voldemort. Perhaps Luna can help Harry.
1. Beginning

A/N: I have read many stories where Harry had a brother and that brother was the BWL. Also there were many stories of the GWL. So, that is the one of the main plot things in this story.

"Children are jealous little spitballs. Especially when their parent's attention are aimed elsewhere."

- Anon

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Harry Potter was a rather normal two year old boy. He had loving parents and a tiny baby brother. At that moment, his mind had not yet developed to a point where he understand the words 'brother' or 'mommy'. He knew what it felt like to be warm, to be cuddled. Touch was a wondrous thing for a baby. Sight was also another important thing. The world was blurry to him, he constantly bumped into things. But through the blurry world he saw red hair, black hair, and bright green eyes. He saw things that fly in the air like birds but do not posses wings. For example, a dustpan, a plant, and various household objects. It was magic, but at that moment he did not understand the concept of 'magic'.

He was just enthralled, curiosity flaring with each passing day.

He liked the sparkles, the light. He liked the sounds, and the jets of differently colored lights. He wasn't scared of thunder or lightning. While his little brother cried, he stared out the window, his own bright green eyes searching for the next strike.

Sadly for Harry and his brother, the good times were going to get really bad.

It was a bright and cheery afternoon when Voldemort walked through the front door. Lily and James Potter deposited Harry and Henry at Lily's parent's house. Petunia was there as well and resolved not to get near the brats as she deemed them. Her own son was with Vernon.

The reason for this small act of celebration was that Voldemort's forces were being unusually quiet. After the prophecy was found, families who fell under it were put under the Fidelius charm. Extended family was also put under the charm so that Voldemort would not have an advantage. Voldemort was using his troops to find the families and to wipe them all out. Some of the families worked with the Order of the Phoenix and offered themselves as bait. Dumbledore refused. Instead he worked on impeding Voldemort's troops.

The few days of silence and lack of attack was a breath of relief for the Light side. There were multiple reasons for this and one of the main possible reasons was the devastating loss of one of Voldemort's stronghold. Many death eaters were captured and several prisoners were saved. Voldemort was probably torturing his followers for failing him so horribly.

The Light side was celebrating. In this fit of happiness, Lily thought her two children should meet their grandparents. Lily's parents gushed over the two boys. Petunia, Lily's sister, was not a gusher for Lily's spawn. She grabbed a book and went up to the attic determined to be civil. If it meant she was not to be seen for the entire day then so be it.

Petunia wasn't a bad person, just prejudice and ignorant and very human. She just expressed her views more vocally than some people. She was also had very accomplished screech. Petunia secretly harbored feelings of jealousy for Lily. She hated how her parents just focused on Lily and did not express the same amount of attention to her. There were times she wished she was a witch just so that her parents would pay attention to her.

The grandparents gushed over the two children for the entire day. They left the two children in their crib and went to the living room to watch a movie. Petunia fell asleep in the attic only to awaken later to hear two children screaming. She hurried down the stairs. She smelled smoke, lots of smoke. She first went to her parents. They were still, unmoving, not breathing. They were dead. Petunia sobbed before covering their bodies with a blanket.

Petunia then went over to the children, stepping around a big black stain on the ground. The stain was not there previously and Petunia was not stupid. There was also a wand laying on the ground. She ignored that too. She went over to the two boys. They were bleeding. The big one, Harry, had blood on his face. The smaller one had blood on his palm. First she wiped the blood off them and cleaned their wounds. Harry had a lightning bolt shape cut on his forehead and Henry had an oddly shaped letter on his. Petunia hurriedly went over to the phone. All the electrical appliances were lined with lead so that they could actually work. Petunia started dialing before stopping. The police cannot be alerted. Petunia gritted her teeth before grabbing the floo powder.

She threw the green powder into the fire. It turned green.

"The Burrow." She then stepped into it.

The electrical outlet behind the crib crackled ominously.

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Hours later, James and Lily Potter were cradling their children. The medics gave the two boys a clean bill of health except for the scars. They were waiting for Albus Dumbledore. He had to tell them something important.

Dumbledore walked in his twinkling eyes dimmed.

"Albus, is something the matter?" Asked Lily, concerned, she had just lost her parents to Voldemort and her children had a near death experience. She hoped that Albus didn't have any bad news to give her.

Dumbledore shook his head.

"I have something of grave news to tell you." He paused. "But first, the good news. Voldemort is dead."

"Yes!" James sad jubilantly. "The bastard is gone!"

"But how?" Lily was the voice of reason and calmed James down.

"Henry fulfilled the prophecy."

"Why not Harry?" Harry yawned sleepily in his mother's arms before going back to sleep.

Dumbledore looked at Harry before smiling sadly. "Harry is a squib Lily."

"What? How?" Lily was near tears. Her poor baby boy was a squib.

"Look at the mark on Henry's palm."

The two parents looked. It looked like a rune.

"That mark is a rune. What it does is suck magic. I fear that Henry sucked away Harry's magic. When Voldemort used the Killing Curse, somehow in that moment, Henry received that scar and instinctively funneled magic from the nearest thing to him which was Harry. He also seemed to have sucked a bit of the magic in the Killing Curse. That may be the reason why they were not dead"

Lily gasped. "But…what of Harry's scar? The medics had tried to remove that too but it could not be removed."

"Harry too received a scar by the Killing Curse. Henry must've used their combined magic to repel the Killing Curse. Both of them have a faint dark magic aura around them. Henry's is stronger."

"But why Henry? He barely a year old. How could he do this?"

"I don't know. Magic is still a strange and mysterious thing. While we may know some things there are many things we don't know. The truth is that I don't know how but I do know that Henry did it. He was the only one with magic. Harry is a squib. He won't ever regain his magic again or use magic."

Lily closed her eyes, tears leaking out. James hugged her awkwardly. Squib children's birth were not recorded by the Ministry. Once Harry was officially recorded as a squib his birth records will be erased. Harry would then be sent to Petunia, the only living relatives on Lily's side. It was the only way he would be happy.

"We will see him again Lily," whispered James. "We will."

Lily nodded. Harry clutched onto his mother, his unconscious mind knowing that he won't be seeing her again for a long time.

The next day Henry Potter was declared the Boy-Who-Lived, while his older brother was sent to his relatives. Only those who knew of Harry's existence beforehand were there to say goodbye.

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Ten years has passed and finally Henry Potter was going to Hogwarts. He couldn't wait. His parents taught him some magic already but just going to school to learn about magic was marvelous.

He rubbed the glove that covered his right hand. Stupid rune he thought. It brought him too much trouble. He liked being the center of attention for the first few years but soon he grew tired of it. That was one reason he wanted to go to Hogwarts, no reporters. No nagging parents either. But knowing his mum, he would be required to send letters every single day. His dad was the Defense Against the Dark arts teacher so there was no escaping from him. At least he would be safe. After the sixth attempted assassination attempt, his parents became more paranoid of his safety. Thus began his magic training.

A red headed boy walked in. "Hi, can I come in?"

Henry nodded. He waited for the recognition to hit.

"I'm Ron. Who are you?"

Henry blinked at first. He then smiled grandly. "I'm Henry, Henry Potter."

"Wow." Ron gaped. He pointed at Henry's hand. "Can I see?"

Henry shook his head. "Not if you want your magic sucked away from you. I still can't control it."

"Ah." Ron scooted away. "That's interesting."

Henry smirked. "It is."

Ron liked Henry. He wasn't pompous. He was cool. He even had red hair. Not as red as Ron's but it was a nice bright fiery red. Henry didn't remark about Ron's clothes or his taped up wand. The two boys talked about broomsticks and teams.

The door opened again, this time a bushy haired girl walked in.

"Hi, I'm Hermione Granger."

"I'm Ron and-- 

He was cut off.

"You're Henry Potter." Hermione was looking at Henry's glove. "Right?"

Henry nodded. "Yeah."

"I read everything about you. Everything anybody wrote about you. You're in so many books and newspapers. Do you know exactly how many books have been written about you?"

"Yeah." Henry said glumly. "Two-hundred and four."

Hermione sat down. "Are any of them true?"

Henry snorted. "Some. Not all. I mean seriously most of those are based on rumors and stuff, makes my life bloody awful when people come up asking me if I had eleven toes or three eyes."

It was an interesting start to a friendship.

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Meanwhile back in Surrey Harry and Dudley were playing street hockey. The two cousins were good friends. A twelve year old boy whacked the puck into the goal, past the defender.

"Yes! I am great!" Harry crowed. "Haha, beat that Dudley."

Dudley in reply took the puck and whacked it back at Harry. Harry ducked as the puck whistled above him.

"Hey!" Harry yelled in protest.

Dudley stuck his tongue out before snickering. He looked at the sky. "We should get back home before dad goes postal."

Harry nodded. Vernon was not a violent man but knew when to discipline his son and nephew. Over the past few years, Harry's life at the Dursley's house was tolerant and sometimes enjoyable. In the beginning, he was shut in a cupboard. He did all the work in the household and was punished often.

It was only later, when Harry and Dudley were in extreme danger did Harry's home life changed. After that wake-up call Dudley started boxing and learning martial arts. Harry tagged along, failing miserably at the boxing but excelling in martial arts.

Dudley was now fit, strong and quick. He was popular and for once protected people from bullies. His old friends were not friends anymore. He was a better person. A person parents could be proud of.

Harry loved marital arts. It made him happy that he could have the freedom to learn how to do amazing feats of flexibility and acrobatics. He was also normal. He loved changing his hair, dying it various colors. He was going to be a pilot. The thought of flying gave him the tingles. Also he wanted to see the inside of a thunderstorm. Lighting also fascinated him, the smell of rain and burnt ozone.

He also liked magic tricks. When he first preformed his first trick his aunt and uncle freaked. He never did them anymore. He stuck to doing normal teenage stuff like skateboarding. He was a good kid and he wanted to make his aunt and uncle proud of him. He wanted them to be happy.

After his eleventh birthday, Petunia warmed up to him. She was more motherly to him. She wasn't as vicious but still strict. Vernon was the same as well. He wasn't prone to hit Harry as much as before. There were at times he would hit Harry for the littlest of things but now Harry had Petunia on his side as well as Dudley.

Life was okay for him, it was fine. He was alive and it was almost his birthday. He was going to be thirteen. Something important was going to happen. He could feel it. Little did he know, it was indeed very important. It was life changing.

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	2. A bit of history

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and suggestions. Also, I may not do Henry's first year. I needed to move the story up. If you want to do it, ask first please. I may do one-shots for some bits of my story that I didn't flesh out completely.

"Friendship is a great thing. To give is happiness. To receive is pure joy."

- Anon

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Harry Potter was in his bed, blankets covering his form. He couldn't sleep. He was thinking. He was thinking back on the dark days or as he coined it the-days-his-life-was-pure-hell. Those were the days when he had no friends. Those were the days when Dudley was wider than he was tall and a bully. Those were the days Vernon would beat him for just existing and the days Petunia would stare away, not looking, not hearing.

But those days were gone now. Harry closed his eyes before pulling his long sleeve away from his forearm. He looked at his arm, eyes focused. He remembered a promise he gave to a person who he thought was his friend. Frankly, now that Harry thought about it, that 'friend' could've been his mind trying to distract himself.

He was six years old and was locked in his cupboard. He was also cradling a broken arm. It was only a fracture; the bone did not peak through his skin. He knew that Vernon didn't notice during his tantrum. All Vernon saw was red and the pounding of blood through his veins. Harry reckoned that Vernon was going to get a heart attack one day. He knew what a heart attack was after watching a few documentaries when his relatives went out to eat at some restaurant.

Pain was something he could deal with. He learned very early on that crying didn't do him much good, neither did wailing. No one would come to him. No one would comfort him. It was then that he found his 'friend'.

It was a man's voice supposedly. The voice identified itself as a man but the voice was high and keen. After Harry commented on this the voice changed, became younger and slightly sarcastic. They talked inwardly. Harry had quickly mastered the art of talking without speaking. To the outside world it would look like he was in a coma, his eyes blank. When Petunia opened the cupboard door to check his health she almost collapsed in shock at his seemingly dead state. Petunia shook Harry, forcibly breaking him from his correspondence with the voice. That was the only time, early in Harry's life, that he saw concern in Petunia's eyes.

After that event Harry spoke to the voice. The voice was talking to him about the dark and the light, about magic and death. Harry listened and conversed. He didn't trust adults and this voice was adult-like so therefore untrustworthy. Slowly, gradually they became friends. The voice was there to comfort him and Harry entrusted the voice with his dreams and desires. When the voice was gone, disappeared Harry wept and decided to keep the promise the voice wanted him to do.

Before the voice disappeared, Harry felt a tingly feeling grow in his forearm and for a brief second he thought he saw a black skull-snake tattoo appear. In his black haze he saw it appear and then disappear. He passed out and woke up in the hospital. Apparently getting pushed down the stairs was detrimental to his health. The doctor told him he was lucky to be alive, his heart stopped once for nearly a minute. The paramedics were amazed his heart started beating again. Using the electrical paddles had mysteriously not worked for some odd reason. They resorted to CPR.

Seven year old Harry figured that the voice had something to do with that. He never heard that voice again. It was fitting, to be brought into the world through pain and to leave in pain. For a long time, Dudley couldn't look at him in the eyes.

Twelve year old Harry sighed. He hated how his mind floated around his past. He was a bit unhinged as some people would say. He had at first hated his relatives; his parents were leaving him with them, fate for giving him a bad hand. The voice wanted him to make revenge and was silent for a while when it realized that Harry didn't have a drop of magic. The voice didn't talk to him for an entire day. Finally the voice found something that made talking to Harry okay. The voice muttered for a while and grumbled. Something about Harry made the voice go twitchy at times and many times Harry was treated to ranting about electricity and magic and how amazing that this happened.

Harry missed the sarcasm, the philosophical wit. He found books and shows that reflected the same wit and sarcasm. He read things that allowed him to live as himself, as who he was and not who people wanted him to be. He knew kids who were abused their entire life, kids who cut, kids who bullied. He knew kids who died unwanted by others.

To them Harry was an enigma. To them Harry had the wounds of abuse and the eyes of the abandoned just like them. But Harry kept smiling. Harry kept laughing. He made them laugh, made them feel wanted. They marshaled together, sharing experiences, supporting each other. When Harry stopped feeling like them they still accepted him, welcomed him like a brother.

Harry clenched his hand, feeling the callous and roughness. He had a hard working man's hand. He had a hand that extended friendship and received. His hands were strong and they spoke for him when he could not speak. They saved Dudley in conjunction of his body.

Harry yawned and lied back in bed. That was when things changed. Saving Dudley changed things for the better. When Dudley was clinging onto the cliff, his eyes wide and his heart racing he was alone. The rest of the group was already gone, up the trail. Harry was the only one who heard, who noticed, who cared. Dudley's so called friends were too busy pulling a prank on one of the girls to notice Dudley was gone.

Harry grabbed Dudley's hand, straining to pull his plump cousin up. That was the first time since the fall that Dudley looked at Harry in the eyes. Dudley's own eyes were full of pain and fear. Harry's eyes mirrored his but had specks of courage and determination behind it. He would not let Dudley die, even when Harry was dragged over the cliff, himself only hanging on by his backpack, even when Dudley yelled for Harry to let go, to save himself. Even when Dudley yelled that he hated Harry and said all sorts of dreadful things to force Harry to let him go. With strength unknown to Harry, he swung Dudley up, leaving himself hanging there.

Dudley pulled him up, panting and staring.

"I'm sorry."

Harry nodded. He knows.

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Henry's life was full of media and gifts. His life was full of love and happiness. It was also full of nosey reporters. Tabloids loved writing about his supposed girlfriends, on commenting on the most innocent of pictures and the various things that happened in Hogwarts that may or may not have involved him.

His parents were naturally paranoid and powerful. They were also tense and multiple times his mother would cry randomly. Henry would learn that he had a brother who was a squib and by wizard law technically did not exist.

Henry thought that was crap.

At a young age he was full of arrogance and had a swelled head. He would admit that. He then got a little sister who he dotted on. His swelled head syndrome deflated a little. At school he met Hermione whose intelligence amazed him. Ron who would regularly beat him in chess. Henry inherited his father's love for flying and his skill. He unfortunately was not allowed till his second year. James was willing to bend the rules but Henry knew that while flying was awesome getting special privileges was not right.

In his first year, Henry thwarted vicious teachers, fangirls, and Draco. Professor Snape had a grudge against Henry but could not take points off for incompetence. Henry was taught too well back at home. Snape however did take points for being late, talking when the teacher was talking and minor things. Henry inherited Lily's skill for potions. He was good and Snape would grudgingly give points only to take them away due to some error.

Fangirls were everywhere. They squealed and gushed. They followed him everywhere. Like a vicious cold they appear, make their mark and then disappear only to appear again. There was no cure or vaccine. He was stuck with them.

Draco was the main opponent to Henry. Draco made snide comments, gestures and had his own little group to ooh and aah. Henry retaliated. Soon their small fight turned to pranks and spells. Many bystanders were injured and sent to the infirmary. As James, Sirius and Ron would say Slytherins were all mini-death eaters. Henry felt the same way too. He hated the arrogant prick that walked around like he owned the school. While Draco's father was on the Board of Governors that didn't mean Draco was.

The biggest adventure Henry had was thwarting Voldemort's bid to corporealness. Voldemort was hiding in the school, possessing children whose parents were still loyal to him. With Ron's and Hermoine's help, Henry stopped Voldemort from taking the Sorcerer's stone.

When the article was published only Henry's name was mentioned, everyone else was strangely absent. But at school Dumbledore gave Henry, Ron and Hermoine points for bravery and the accomplishment of various tasks.

It was when he returned from Hogwarts for that his head deflated fully from hot air and refilled itself with righteous anger.

His little sister died, killed violently, bleeding in his arms. Attached to the knife that killed her was a note.

-Have a Happy Birthday Henry Potter.

-D.E.

The knife was meant for him. His sister took the blow. When they caught the assassin, it took five Aurors, Hagrid and binding charms to hold back Lily and James. Henry was still in shock. When they held her funeral for her, he cried and couldn't stop. Letters poured in and his friends grieved with him.

He worked hard to learn how to protect himself. He wanted to protect people. He didn't want anyone to die for him. He had tutors and excelled. His magic reservoirs were massive. Henry thanked his brother and promised himself that his Harry's sacrifice was not wasted.

His mother was pregnant again. A part of him resented his mother for trying to replace Rose. A part of him was gone forever, the love he had for his baby sister gone when she was placed into the ground.

Summer was almost over. He was going back to school. His friends couldn't visit him due to heightened security measures. The days of happy summer days were gone.

Henry sat in the tree, ignoring his guard's warnings.

"I wish you were back. I would've done anything for your return." Whispered Henry to the cloud covered sky.

He remembered clearly the hat told him before announcing his house.

"_You're an interesting mind, so many ideas bouncing about, with so many dreams. You're an ambitious one, wanting to wring all the tabloid writers' necks. Brave too because that would be tantamount to murder. Smart as well thinking up various ways to kill them and hide their bodies. You're also loyal to your family and that is keeping you from carrying out your plan."_

The hat had paused.

"_Take my words and take heed. Your life, your existence is very important. You can affect change, you are in the position. Watch and learn. Observe. You have the power and the chance to be corrupted, your views skewed."_

The hat paused again, as if thinking of ways to speak that were understandable to an eleven year old boy.

"_Already, the pieces have been moved. You're a piece too, a powerful one. You're not the player, not yet anyways. Dark times are coming Henry Potter. Gather your friends and allies. Be ready for the incoming storm. It's going to be a strong one and it's going to have companions. The world is already changing. Be ready Henry Potter."_

It then announced his house, Gryffindor as predicted and Henry went to his house dazed. He forgot those words, until now. Henry didn't tell his parents. He had a feeling that the hat's words were meant for him and for his ears only.

Henry closed his eyes and bathed in the sunlight. He had a sinking feeling that the sun was going to be blotted out and the darkness will come.


	3. World Cup

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and suggestions. About the guns and weapons stuff, I'm still thinking about it.

"There is no sides. There are groups of people working towards the same goal but there are no sides. Sure, life would be so much easier if there are definite sides but life isn't that uncomplicated. Life is complicated. Life is full of the good, the bad and the ugly. Life is worth living and sometimes worth dying for. (pause) It does suck to be dead though."

-Anon

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World Cup

Henry Potter watched in fear, in horror as the World Cup disintegrated in flames. It was a marvelous game, and rather peaceful except for the drunk wizards and witches. There were some loud boasting and squeals of happiness. Then the screaming started.

Wizards and witches in skull masks started attacking people, hexing them. They were death eaters and they were killing people. Or they were people dressed as death eaters and doing very bad and naughty things.

Henry was at the World Cup with the Wesley family, while his own parents were off on a personal vacation. Henry didn't mind, he wanted some time away. Everyone was so tense except for his little sister who didn't understand anything at all.

Dark activity was growing restless, whispers of banshees and marauding werewolf packs were in the wind. Those who were allied to the Order of the Phoenix gave the members the news. They took it pretty well considering the news. More blood rituals, virgin sacrifices and treaties were made to various classified dark creatures.

The major players were strangely quiet.

The vampires kept mostly to themselves. They had some part in the first war but only the rogues did. The society of vampires as a whole decided to keep themselves out of the wizard war.

Werewolf packs also kept to themselves. They were already persecuted as it was, they didn't need another coffin nail. There were rumors of a new alpha, a revolutionary, a true messiah. They were rumors of course.

The bigger and lumbering magical creatures had all but disappeared, leaving the more populated places for the mountains. Getting information on them was hard and whatever information gathered were not worth the effort.

There was much clamoring and yelling like this:

"What?"

"Bloody hell!"

"Crap on a stick!"

And some of this:

"You serious?"

"Joy."

"Is it lunch time yet?"

Anyway, the Order decided to continue monitoring the most high-risk folk, folk who would most likely try to eat people in broad day light. Folk who don't obey the laws and folk who go on murdering rampages.

Back to the present occurrence, Henry went out into the forest. He wasn't running from battle but knew that dying here would do nobody any good.

He met up with Hermione and Ron. From there they defended themselves from the random flashes of spells and generally stayed out of the way. The trio knew how to fight. Hermione was the brains of the group. Ron was the brave one. And Harry was in the middle. He wasn't stupid or incredibly brave. He was smart; he knew when to pick his fights and when to run.

He doesn't run much. He fights more often than he runs. While bravery was a very good attribute, self-preservation is also a very valued attribute. He didn't really know what happens to a person when they die but he knows when they are dead, they stay dead.

He did not want to die.

He did not want his friends to die due to his carelessness. He doesn't need another death on his consciousness.

"Duck!"

They all ducked.

Beams of light smashed into the trees, burning or blasting them to smithereens. Girlish screams came from Ron.

"Protego."

"Good work Herm."

"I don't know how long I can this up. There are too many spells here and some are the Killing Curse. The shield may break."

"Shields can break?"

"Yes." She sounded exasperated. "Honestly Ron, where you even paying attention in class?"

"Uh…no?"

Henry snorted. Hermione should've known not to ask those questions. He stood and took his glove off. "Hermione kill your spell."

Hermione killed the shield spell. Five years ago, she would've questioned his orders. But after five years of adventure and friendship, she trust Henry. She trusted his instincts and his plans. Why else would she follow him?

The beams of light, directed randomly everywhere all started going towards Henry. The rune on his hand glowed, and the magic was absorbed. Each and every spell even the Killing Curse.

Henry crashed into the ground, grasping his hand, wincing. Dark magic was hard to absorb. The pure malice, the emotion in the magic was torture to him. It was like poison.

Ron hurriedly gave him back his glove. Henry placed the glove back on.

"Protego!" Henry shouted.

A huge shield appeared, shaped by his desires, forming a bubble around the trio.

"There. That should do it."

The best thing to do was to burn the dark magic out of his system. He did so by channeling all the extra magic through his spells making small mediocre spells into strong ones. The rest he siphoned into his reserve, ready for him to use.

The extra magic in him had unfortunately made his wand explode early when he didn't know he had to burn the extra magic or convert. He was like a ticking time bomb before realizing that he had to do something with the extra magic floating around in his system. Sadly his wand was a casualty before he knew he had to do such. He was able to salvage the core. It was left in his room in the Burrow in a small box. He was planning on getting it fixed and maybe getting another wand. He missed the comfortable feel of wood on his naked palm, it was his security blanket.

Hours later, the trio were sitting in the tent, drinking cocoa. Everyone was worse for wear.

"We should pack and leave. Most of the wizards who were torturing the muggles and lightning fire to the camp had already disappeared. We only apprehended a few of them, most of them were drunks." Said a tired Arthur Weseley.

"I saw Malfoy." Said Charlie, his voice raspy from yelling spells. "Bastard was smiling the entire time."

The whole group sighed.

Life just couldn't get worse.

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Harry stared at Luna. Luna stared back. They kept staring at each other, trying to see who would blink first.

Harry blinked.

"I win." Luna whispered, giggling before standing up. She willowed across the room, flitting from place to place. She hated staying in one place; it made her feel like a stone.

Harry grinned, watching Luna. She was such a wall flower, floating about, and so free. He envied her, envied how she had a world parallel to his and how amazing it was.

Wizards.

Actually living wizards.

How utterly amazing.

She couldn't show him any magic spells due to some child-protection-alarm-adult-crap thing. She did however show him the books. Not just ordinary books but books with moving pictures, newspapers with moving pictures. Now that was beyond awesome.

It was early in the summer when he ran into her. It was a brief glance, a touch of skin and the tangible electricity crackle between them. It went like this.

"Hi, I'm Harry. Who're you?"

"I'm Luna. A witch."

"Huh, that's cool. I practice martial arts."

She was here to look for some thing/animal. He, being the perfect gentleman, offered to help. From there they became friends. They had a lot in common. They both loved thunder storms, figured there was some conspiracies in the current government and that they were both outcasts.

Luna actually had a nickname. Looney Lovegood. Luna didn't mind. She told Harry it was a name of endearment. Harry told her he would beat them up for making fun of her. Luna was too nice to be made fun of.

Harry was lucky. The other kids ignored him and he ignored them in turn. It's not like he needed them. Once he turns eighteen he was going into the world to seek his fortune.

After a month of hanging with each other, introducing Luna to the movies and the mall she told him her secret. She wasn't lying when they first met. She really was a witch. And now, she offered to show him her world.

She had babbled on a bit on the rules but also said something about a mail and how they didn't get the mail so she's in the clear. She would've done it anyways but it was always good to cover one's bases.

"Luna."

Luna stopped her twittering. "Yes Harry?"

"So…uh…when we're going?"

"Tomorrow."

"Cool."

An awkward silence developed. "So uh…it's a date?"

Luna blushed and giggled. "Yes."

Harry smiled awkwardly. "Great…that's just great."

Silence again.

Outside of the room, the other two occupants of the household had their ears pressed to the door. Well, Dudley had his ear pressed to the door; his parents were standing back along in the hallway.

"Did he ask her out yet?" Whispered Petunia.

"Shhh."

After a few seconds, Dudley grinned. "Yep. He did."

Slight emotion passed the elder Dursley's faces. Petunia was pleased while Vernon had a grimace on his face. He tolerated the little creep. He couldn't wait till the kid was eighteen and he could be ejected from the house legally.

Back with Harry and Luna, the tension was thick enough to be cut with a knife.

Luna gazed at Harry with half-lidded eyes. She could see that he had Professor Potter's eyes. His eyes were so green, killing curse green, the color of green that could shift from dark to light. She wondered if Harry knew how mischievous his eyes were, shifting shades.

Must be opt-shades, thought Luna.

Terrible creatures, giving away ones emotions without thought to the person and so bothersome when that said person trying to be tough.

She wondered if her own eyes shift colors. She couldn't really tell. Staring at her own reflections for hours had made her conclude that only other people could tell if her eyes shifted.

Luna slipped forward, slightly and quickly. She pecked Harry on the cheek before wafting out the door. She left, her mind whirling. She wondered if Harry knew his parents were still alive.

She wondered if Harry knew he had siblings.

He seemed happy here. The furniture hummed, they couldn't talk, not like at Hogwarts but they had happy vibes. His room was his happy place. He felt safe there. It was home.

Who was she to take him from his home?

Especially when he was offering to open his home up to her.

KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK


End file.
